Final Destination 4: Death by numbers
by MXSLIMAK189
Summary: After seeing a premonition at a motocross race. Frank tries helping people to get out of there, but once him and 9 other ppl are, they will die worse ways then how they would've died. REVIEW PLEASE!
1. Chapter 1: The Race

CHAPTER 1: The race

_Supercross race, St. Lois_

Frank Degron started up his 450cc ,four-stroke Honda number 300, and revved the engine. He strapped his HJC helmet on and glanced to his left and right, He saw a red bike with the number 666, shook his head then saw nothing there. Nine racers to his left. Ten to his right. A guys bike suddenly roars to life, thus causing Frank to jump, that guys bike number was 11 and he rode a Yamaha. He turns to one of his mechanics next to him.

" I have a bad feeling about this race Tod" he killed the bikes engine and leaned back.

" Don't worry about it man, if you win this will rank you first in the AMA standings." said Tod while he patted Frank's back.

Frank suddenly dazed forward into a type of "premonition"

Premonition:

_Frank leaned back forward and kicked his back, it roared loudly as he leaned forward. A hot lady holding up a sign then shifted it sideways and went off the track, that meant five seconds until the starting gate dropped down and the race started. But before it went down Frank heard a blood curling scream. _

" _What the hell?" Frank said astonished. He turned to see that everything was just calm. He shrugged and looked forward as the gate went down. He hesitantly drove forward, letting the other riders go by. He past the holeshot line then opened up the throttle and zipped forward. He went over the first table top, after seeing what is over it, he wished he never joined this race. There was a pile-up of five riders stacked in front of him, but luckily he went around them, he started to get confident with himself now, _I guess Tod was right, nothing to worry about. _Thought Frank, but to his side a bike comes whipping through the air and smacks Frank right off his bike. His bike kept going and flew over a berm. His bike was lunged forward and hit another biker. That guys bike went at 70mph and hit a support pole, holding up a score standings at the top ceiling of the indoor Supercross track. The pole cracked, causing debris to fall from the ceiling ( big chunks of cement)_ _followed by the huge score standings electric box. Everything fell onto the track, Frank couldn't move because his feet were pinned into the dirt from another guys bike. A racer in front of him was screaming in pain as a piece of debris fell on his arm, then another smashing his face. Another rider gets crushed by a piece of cement. The others were dead from a crash. He looked to his left to see that Tod was pinned to the ground, coughing up blood. Frank glanced up and saw the score standings falling right towards him, he yelled..._

After premonition: Frank snapped back to reality, he threw off his helmetHe glanced left and right to see the same amount of people like who he saw before. Then the Yamaha startled him again. The number was 11 as wellTod grabbed him by the shoulders.

" What the hell are you thinking?" Tod said lifting him up.

" They- They're all gonna die... In... A crash, the ceiling collapsed and everything.!" he moved back and held his head, he breathed heavily.

" Your just nervous that's it, now get your ass back out there!" hepointed to the starting gate.

" THEY ARE ALL GONNA DIE! EVERY SINGLE ONE!" Frank threw his helmet to the ground and left. Eight other racers leave the starting gate, but leave to different areas. There numbers were: 189, 231, 90, 58, 24, 34, 65, 12. Four of them had Hondas, two had KTMs, and two had Kawasaki. They left, and so did Frank and Tod. You hear an announcer saying " look at this folks, nine riders leaving the track! Looks like eleven are left, get ready for a good race!

" Frank, what the hells wrong with you! There won't be a fuc-" he got interrupted by a loud crumbling noise, they both look at the stadium to see part of the roof collapsing down. Frank put his hand over his mouth and fell to the ground.

" Oh my god!" said Frank as Tod brought him up. Frank just stood there dazing at the stadium.

They open up the car door to a Chevrolet red pick-up truck. Frank strapped his bike on the back and went in the car. Tod drove.

" Okay explain again; What happened?" Tod asked, no answer. Frank just stared out the window, in guilt.


	2. Chapter 2: Deaths Design

CHAPTER 2: Deaths Design

Charles Stanley, number 12, enters a Honda motor sports store. He is Caucasian, has a bald head, is wearing a white tank top, and has a tattoo sleeve. He walked up to the counter.

" Hey Dave, got anything new?" He asked Dave, the cashier.

" We got the new CRF250's, they came in yesterday." answered Dave as he walked Charles to a row of Hondas. It lined all the way to a shelf of pipes and mufflers.

" So, does the dual exhaust make a difference on those straight aways?" asked Charles as he admired the bike.

" Its perfect for the whoops, and beats the 125cc by a longshot." answered Dave. Charles examined the bikes.

" Cool and all but it don't beat the 450cc." said Charles as he walked to the accessories section right across from the bikes, a jersey was laying on the floor in front of him.

Frank sat in front of a computer screen typing about is "vision" he had. On the screen it had an article about the roller coaster crash, and the pile-up. He scrolled down to a picture of a train station with pieces of train parts everywhere. Below that picture were three pictures of tore up bodies. Frank picked up a Monster Energy Drink™ can and drank out of it, suddenly his chair broke and he flew back, but his Monster can flew on top of the computer monitor and spilled, the computer sizzled and sparked. Then the screen burst open with sparks, finally calmness. Frank slowly rose up and looked at his computer screen, in the screen he sees a faint outline of the number "12" Frank ran out of the room.

Charles walked around the accessories section, an eerie wind shivers past him. It knocked over a coat hanger from behind him. He turned and walked that way. His foot hits the hanger and he falls forward, but catches himself from falling.

" Whoa that was close, too close." he walks forward out of the section he was in. The shirt from earlier is still there, waiting for him to step on it. The eerie wind blows through again he looks behind himself as he walks but once he turns forward he slips on the shirt and falls on the ground. He crawls forward and hangs onto one of the CRF250cc's to pull himself up. But he knocked it down and it caused a domino line down the row of dirt bikes. _Oh shit, _thought Charles as the bikes hit a shelf. The shelf falls backwards. Hits a bike and that causes a pipe to be catapulted in the air and right past Charles. He laughs and stands up and yells to Dave " Clean up on aisle three!" Dave runs over near him.

Charles looks over to Dave. But Dave points up. Suddenly a pole impales him right through the middle of his head. Dave looked in awe and disgust as he ran into another room.

Frank floored his pick-up truck down the street and to the Honda store, he knew Charles always went there. Ambulances, cop cars, and a news van were all outside the store.

" It seems that there has been a " freak" accident at this local store..." says a reporter outside, a guy rolls a body bag out of the store in a stretcher.

" DAMN! I'm to late!" Frank turns and runs back.

Tod is in Franks garage working on Frank's bike. Frank comes bursting through the door.

" What is it?" asked Tod

" Charles is dead." answered Frank as he breathed heavily.

Dan Wong, a Japanese buzz-cut guy, number 24, lays in his bed. He is sleeping as an eerie wind blows through his bedroom. Causing his door to shut. Then it locks. He jumps up, he only has jeans on, no shirt. He goes to open his door but it doesn't open. He goes to turn a light on, but the light breaks, causing little glass shards to get stuck in his hand.

" Shiit!" he yelled.

Frank drove down the street talking with Tod.

" What you think this is some sort of _coincidence _that he died after surviving the crash in St. Lois?" asked Frank in irritation

" Actually yeah!" answered Tod.

Frank ignored him and continued driving. But he sees a truck with the number "24" posted huge on the side of the truck.

" Tod."

" Yeah."

" Was there a number 24 by any chance who left the race?" asked Frank.

Tod leans forward in a little nervousness. " Yeah why?"

" Where does he live?" asked Frank

" Down this street" answered Tod. Frank floored it down the street to Dan's house. They pulled up on his driveway, and smoke was coming out from a broken window upstairs.

" It might be to late." said Frank as the two ran into the house. They knocked the door down, smoke flooded out.

Frank and Tod ran upstairs to a door were the fire was from, he kicked it down. Dan was in a corner away from the fire curled up.

" I- I don't wanna die!" he yelled as fire roared through the wall. Dan slowly got up and walked towards them. He was half way there when the floorboards beneath him collapsed and he fell down into a pit of flames.

" SHIT!" yelled Frank as he slammed his fist to the wall.

They got into the car and drove off.

" I've heard about theses 'Deaths' online, about flight 180, road 180, and the roller coaster crash. And its all about a 'design'" explained Frank.

Tod listened.

" And after they 'cheated death' they were killed off one by one by freak accidents. Like I said they considered it a design." finished Frank.

" So what' the 'design' this time?" asked Tod.

" You know who got off the track right? Well the two who died so far had the AMA numbers 12 and 24, so I think that death is killing us by number." answered Frank. Tod looked at him like he was stupid.

" Trust me" said Frank

" So who's number 34?"

Tod looked through an AMA pamphlet.

" His name is Larry Tenfold, he lives on the corner of Grey and Coronet. The brick house."

They found the house and parked in the driveway.

" LARRY!" yelled Frank as he ran to the door. Larry answered with a questioned look on his face.

" What going on?" asked Larry.

" Your gonna die, you see when you cheat death, death tries to kill you in some sort of design."

" What the hell you talking about?"

Larry closes the door. But through the window Frank sees a reflection of a truck coming his way. He quickly turns around to see that nothings there. But to the side of him he sees the same truck, but its up the street. The street is like a hill because the steepness. The truck rear ends a Scion in front of it and the guy driving it accidently bumps it to drive, now the cars going downhill to Larry's house. It roared down the street, Frank ran into Larry's house and pulled him out.

" What the f are you doing!" he demanded. Suddenly the car smashed his house.

" Wow, uh thanks?" thanked Larry, suddenly the house blew up and a piece of metal flew through the air and decapitated Larry.


	3. Chapter 3: Gathering up the survivors

CHAPTER 3: Gathering up the other survivors.

After cleaning up the mess from Larry, Tod and Frank went and tried finding the others.

After a mile of driving they pulled up to the house of Sean Slimak, number 189, who lives up in Illinois and not St. Lois. In a house on a hill.

Frank knocked on the door, Sean answered, but he was only 17 years old.

" Sean, you have to come with us! Everyone who cheated death that day in St. Lois are still gonna die!" he explained. He handed them a printed article form the internet.

" See, this has happened before, you need to trust us." said Frank.

" By the way, who is number 58?" asked Frank.

" He is my brother why?" answered Sean with a puzzles look on his face.

Sean's brother comes to the door, his name is Tim.

" Who the f are you?" demanded Tim.

" You need to come with us, YOU ARE NEXT TO DIE! So come on." said Frank.

" Hey, holy shit your right, like a while ago I heard about the flight 180 accident. But what does this have to do with us?" asked Tim, who is also puzzled. Frank explained about the crash and deaths design. Tim just looked at him like he was stupid. _What the hell is up with this guy?_ Tim asked himself.

Finally Frank handed them pictures of the three riders that died already. And told them how they died.

" Holy shit, man and me and Dan were buds to." said Tim.

" Screw this shit im goin' trail ridin man." Sean said, he went to the backyard and to a shed, the shed was painted white with silver doors. He opened it and pulled a motorcycle out. It was a HONDA CR 250. He hopped on it and zoomed pat the other three and down the street. His AMA number was 189, and he was quick for someone who is younger than the rest he raced with. He popped a wheelie and sped down the street to a field, behind the field was a forest. Where the trails were. A cop car sat there hidden in bushes across the field to the left, Sean went to the right.

" Shit the cops, I might as well lose 'em." said Sean as he yanked the throttle back and flew forward into a trail. He hit a jump and got five feet of air, then U-turned and jumped back out of the forest at speeds of 65mph. Dirt kicked up from his bike as he flew down the field towards another trail jump. An eerie wind blows by and slowly rolls a baseball size rock in his way, he ran over it and kicked the rock up and it cut his bike chain in two, the chain swung around and cut a hole in his front tire. He flipped forward with his bike, the bike landed on his back, knocking the wind out of him.

" God damn it!" Sean yelled as he threw the bike off him. He looks forward and sees a branch about an inch from his face.

" I should've wore a helmet." sighed Sean as he got up. He limped towards his bike and brought it back up. But he doesn't notice a big shadow race across the grassy field, up to Sean's house.

" So your telling me death has a design that will kill us?" asked Tim in a mocking voice as he walked up the stairs in his house. It was just Frank and Tim.

" Yes I am, you may think I'm crazy but I'm not!" said Frank noticing the mocking from Tim.

Behind them a dark figure zooms by. Followed by another eerie wind. All the doors around them slammed shut.

" AH SHIT! We gotta get you out of here!" yelled Frank as he grabbed Tim and ran took him too the stairs. Tim was about to take a step but Frank brought him back. _Something has gotta be wrong here, but what? _He asked himself while looking around, all there was, was a cabinet above them. His question was answered by the cabinet doors swinging open and a fire pick rolled out going straight for Tim's head, Frank noticed it and in one swift movement grabbed Tim and caught the fire pick.

Frank takes a heavy breather then lets Tim out of his grip. He shows him the fire pick.

" You believe me now?"

Sean walks his bike up the street as the sun beats down on him. He tastes the salt of sweat burning at his cheeks. He glances up and sees no clouds, just the sun.

He shook his head, causing his long skater hair to move back and forth. His bike rattled as he brought it up the street. Finally he got to the house. Tim and thee others were outside.

" What the hell did you do to the bike?" demanded Tim.

" Snapped the chain, and popped the front tire." answered Sean, calmly.

" So Sean, were do the other racers live?" asked Frank.

" Uh, right now they're at a track not so far from here." answered Sean.

Greg Marshal, number 65, an African American, 19, had a buzz-cut, and is brothers with number 90.

C.J ( number 90, Greg's brother) is also African American, has black dread locks, 18 years old, and him and his brother own a KTM. A KTM is a orange motocross bike, which is one of the fastest out there.

Greg and C.J competed out on the track. Next to each other they went off a huge tabletop, Greg did a superman and C.J did a can-can. They landed slid up the berm, then quickly went forward, kicking up chunks of dirt. Greg sweated like crazy as the sun beamed on his face, even though he wore a helmet but he still had all his gear on. They jump another ramp and do more tricks. Until another rider pulls up behind them, his number is 58. Tim raced past them at unbelievable speeds. He then stopped on the track, causing the others to stop in reflex. C.J throws his bike down and storms over to Tim. C.J yanks his helmet off and chucks it to the side. C.J was the violent gangster type, while Greg was the calm normal one.

" Man what the f you doing here!" demanded C.J, he pushed Tim off his bike.

" Yo man back off him." said Greg, he stepped in.

" Greg... Your next." exclaimed Frank as he ran into the picture.

" What the hell you talkin' about?" asked Greg, puzzled.

Frank explained the story to him. Greg actually partly believed him. _What's this punk talkin' bout? _Thought C.J as he sat and listened. A sound of a motorcycle fills the area. Greg looks back to see a guy losing control on his bike, he goes off the jump behind them and flies off to the side, the bike flips in the air towards Greg.

Frank ran to go save him but slips and falls. Right before the bike hits Greg, he falls down form something. Tim pulled him down just in time.

" Holy ( irregular breath) shit." breathed Greg. Frank lifted him up. Up in the clouds Frank sees a faint '90' in the sky.

" Hey C.J, what number are you?" asked Frank after glancing at the number in the sky.

" 90 bitch, why do you care?" rudely answered C.J.

Frank ignored him and walked off to the car, he looked up and nothing was there.

They drove down a highway street. Tod and Frank in the red pick-up and the others in a Ford Explorer, a tan one.


End file.
